


Olives and Lavender

by AJtheBlueJay



Category: Disney Duck Universe, DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Body Worship, Demigods, Erotica, Fantasizing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Romance, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27486667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJtheBlueJay/pseuds/AJtheBlueJay
Summary: There's only one scent dominating all of Donald as he and Storkules have an intimate encounter in the houseboat.
Relationships: Donald Duck/Storkules
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	Olives and Lavender

**Author's Note:**

> Thought it would be perfect timing to finish this fic since there was apparently an episode today with ol' Storkules. What a hunk. Enjoy!

He smelled of olives and lavender. Every time Donald got in close with Storkules - usually against his will - those two scents would fill his mind and take root in his thoughts, and good luck trying to get them out for the rest of the day. Scrooge would scold him for staring off into space, not having any idea why. And in his dreams, he was on top of Storkules, wrapped up in his warm embrace, filed with his immortal prize, the smell of olives and lavender intoxicating him in a flurry of comfort and deep desire. Donald would awake in a hot sweat, panting deep, face flushed, and blanket tented. With a huff, he’d roll onto his stomach and flop, trying to get the images out of his head. He wasn’t interested in Storkules! He was too dramatic, and weirdly obsessive with Donald. And there was no way he could feel the same way. He was an unwitting uncle (father) and had no time or energy for a significant other.

But if that were true, why were those two soft aromas making his brain fuzzy and his stomach heat up? He couldn’t even concentrate on the movie he and the toga-clad stork god were watching in his houseboat. It was late, everyone in the mansion was probably asleep, and Donald was thick into the aftermath of a “friend outing,” as Storkules referred to it. Against his better judgement, he allowed Storkules to spend the night in his houseboat, and this is where the night had gotten them so far- the two on the couch watching some movie that Donald couldn’t even remember the name of. His head rested on the stork’s perfectly chiseled pec, the soft feathers lending themselves to the function of a pillow in an odd way.

Deep down inside, and he would never admit this out loud, he knew how hot he found Storkules. The god was clearly created to be the pinnacle of avian strength and his incredible physique promised the world and yet somehow still over delivered. It was crazy.

“The way you portray your heroes in your entertainment has always perplexed me, friend Donald,” said Storkules, but Donald didn’t really hear him. He just stared at his pecs, eyes wandering down to his rock-hard abs, half-covered by the drape of his toga, then down to the skirt portion of his ancient clothing. What dormant secrets lay under there that Storkules kept hidden most of the time? Donald was embarrassed to ask the question, but it seemed to never leave his mind ever since an errant breeze blew the toga back, revealing his crotch for a split second. Storkules seemed unfazed, probably having braced this mild inconvenience many a time before, but Donald felt his face grow red. It was heartrendingly sexy in its mortification, and for some strange reason, even though Donald forewent pants and other lower-body coverings all the time, he had a sudden urge to pull his shirt down over himself.

Now, in the living room of his houseboat, all of Donald’s feelings were coming to a head. His mind was racing so fast, he couldn’t even ask himself whether or not to act on these feelings. It just had to be done.

Storkules pulled Donald close and laid back on the couch, head resting on the armrest. The movie faded into the background as once again, olives and lavender intoxicated his senses. He hummed, a lustful cry for more as subtle as a passing breeze. He pressed his groin against Storkules’ torso, a lustful cry for friction subtle as a sledgehammer on steel.

“Friend Donald...” breathed Storkules.

“I need you...you drive me crazy.”

Things moved fast then. Donald’s mind swam with everything except the here and now. He lost his presence in the strong stork god he was aching for. All he knew was olives and lavender and bliss.

Then, suddenly, a return to reality and to the cock in his rear. Pleasure rocketed up his spine as Storkules filled him to the brim with each thrust. His silky toga provided the perfect texture to make Donald’s drakehood throb, and his cries echoed throughout the houseboat.

Storkules treated him so well despite how cold Donald had been to him up to that point. He was always there like a puppy next to its master, forever loyal against all odds. Donald had no time to feel sorry for his actions, as his only priorities were still olives, lavender, and hot sex.

He rode the deity with animalistic instinct, sweat soaking into his sailor top. His cock was surging with desire so rapidly, that Donald didn’t have the wherewithal to warn Storkules of his inevitable release. Thus he could only crow and hope it didn’t ruin the couch as his love spurt out into the moonlit air.

“Donald...it must come,” he moaned, “I am...powerless to its will.” Thus with four more erratic thrusts, Storkules finished inside Donald, drawing out a passionate note that seemed to surround Donald’s very soul.

They separated, panting and dazed. Donald struggled to overcome the wooziness now setting in. Storkules removed the condom he used and threw it in a nearby wastepaper basket. Donald shared a knowing glance with Storkules. They were too tired to say anything, but their eyes told each other the story they both so desperately needed to hear.

“ _I’m sorry for how I acted, Storkules.”_

“ _I could never harbor any ill will toward my Friend Donald.”_

“ _I enjoyed you.”_

“ _And I you.”_

“ _We should clean up.”_

“ _Verrily.”_

Storkules picked Donald up daintily, Donald winced as his tail made clear just how spent it was. He had no fear that the shower would undo the scent that had drawn him so powerfully to such a powerful and loving god.

Olives and lavender were forever locked in his heart.


End file.
